Teacher Tales: Sestina Challenge
Last Saturday, my buddy Sam DeLoach started World Poetry Month here on Our Write Side off with a bang. He taught us what the sestina is and shared one of his own. Since it would be wrong of me not to rise to the challenges, I give you my take on the sestina. It’s not a comfortable style for me, so I hope you enjoy it.
Death of a Concert Pianist
We were meant to be together, always,
Regardless of the shadows we became.
Burning hearts extinguished and cold
Estranged from you, the one I held dear.
But still, your love was elegant,
And into your abyss I was fated.
To suffer strangled, we were fated.
Tormented by the truth, we cried always,
Despite our wealth and clothes so elegant,
Sterile, flaccid paupers we became,
Because we focused on things to hold dear,
Lifeless creatures in the freezing cold.
While our love expired, turned cold,
Suffered remorse the seer so fated,
But I don’t forget you, dear.
You linger just behind my eyes, always.
And your servant I became,
A prisoner in a penitentiary elegant
This exquisite pain is elegant,
Even as our breath turns cold.
We lie sullen, afraid of what we became.
And realize we’re merely ill fated,
Despite vows of forever and always,
I’ll not hold you again, my dear.
I don’t forget you, dear.
Your long fingers, elegant,
Green eyes that shine, always.
I twist about in a sweat, so cold.
Resolved to face what was fated,
And the forlorn pair we became.
I fear the man I became,
Burying that which once was so dear.
Finding little else but what was fated.
Your alabaster body, refined and elegant,
Now beneath the ground so cold.
I’ll mourn your loss, always.
But you, dear heart remain elegant,
And I, always fated to be alone,
Relish the cold this night became.